New Friends and New Additions
by CTMfan-13
Summary: An important conversation for the Turner family. Set in 3.6


 _"I made a new friend yesterday."_

 _"Did you?"_

 _"Jean Monk. Colin's mother."_

 _"Colin?"_

 _"Cub Colin."_

 _"Ah, yes."_

 _"Jean was telling me that Colin is adopted."_

 _"Really?"_

 _"You know what I'm going to say, don't you?"_

 _"I know how much you want a baby. And I think you know how much I'd like one, too."_

And that she did. Shelagh and Patrick had had many conversations about children, both before and after they'd married. Some were spoken with words and others with actions that proved, without a doubt, she and her husband desperately wanted to become parents.

After her diagnosis, those conversations continued, but they were mostly spoken ones. And other times, when they made love and their souls were connected, they each hoped against science and certainty that their actions and passion in that moment would result in a child of their own. Though neither of them acknowledged this out loud, they both knew they were thinking the same thing.

Shelagh thought about Timothy. She hadn't given birth to a child of her own, but she couldn't imagine feeling any different about him if she had. The motherly feelings she held for that boy had been with her for years, even when she was still Sister Bernadette, tending to his cuts and bruises while his father worked himself to the brink of exhaustion.

 _"I don't believe I'd have to carry a child inside my body for it to feel like ours. If I did, it would mean that loving Timothy has taught me nothing."_

 _"Shelagh, if you want to adopt, we can look into adopting!"_

 _"Really?"_

 _"Really. I know as little about this from a parent's perspective as you do. But we can work it out together. First time for both of us."_

 _"I just hope Timothy agrees."_

That afternoon, when Patrick returned home for his lunch break, the two of them sat down with Timothy to discuss the possibility of adoption. They had never told him about Shelagh's diagnosis. He knew she'd been in hospital, and that she'd had surgery on her tummy, but neither of them felt the need to explain to him the reason. He was just a boy, they didn't need to add their worries and sadness to his own.

"Timothy? Do you remember a few months ago when Shelagh had to go to hospital for a few days?"

Tim's face dropped as he nodded, and Patrick realized he started this conversation wrong. Shelagh stepped in, her gentle voice soothing away any worries of both the Turner men.

"Everything is fine, Timothy. There's nothing to worry about. We just wanted to talk to you about something." She had reached out to take hold of his hand, smiling inwardly when he accepted the contact even though he was 'far too old for that sort of thing' as he so often reminded them.

"You see, Tim." She began, taking the lead from her husband. "When someone recovers from Tuberculosis like I did, they have to go in for checkups from time to time to make sure the disease isn't active or...or causing any side effects."

"You're okay, right? You don't have to go back to the sana-sanat...to St. Anne's, do you?"

Shelagh shook her head. "No, dearest. I don't have to go back there."

"Good. So no side effects, then." It came out as a statement, and Shelagh felt a part of her start to crumble.

Sensing she was on an edge, Patrick continued. "Tim, remember before Shelagh and I got married? You and I talked about what could happen in the future when Shelagh joined our family?"

Tim nodded. It had been the first awkward grownup conversation with his father, a lecture about 'the birds and the bees' being one of the things he'd have liked to forget about that day.

"You mean a baby?!" Tim felt himself start to smile of his own accord, but as soon as he looked at his stepmother's face he stopped. There were tears glistening in her eyes and a sadness on her face like he'd never seen. He watched his father reach for her hand, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

"Yes, well. Sometimes, when people are as sick as Shelagh was, the tuberculosis can find its way to other parts of the body as well as the lungs."

"Like Mummy?"

Understanding the unspoken question, Patrick nodded. "A little like Mummy, yes."

"But I'm not still sick, Timothy. That's the important thing. My disease is no longer active, it's just that-"

She squeezed her husband's hand, willing him to be the one to tell their son. He understood immediately, not wanting to draw this out any longer and cause his wife more pain.

"Shelagh's tuberculosis spread, and it ended up in her tummy. So, what that means is that because she was sick, we won't be able to have a baby."

"Oh..." Tim deflated in his seat. Looking up at them, he struggled to find something to say. Shelagh looked like she was about to burst into tears, and so did his dad. He hadn't given much thought to babies, but since Shelagh had married his dad he'd found himself unconsciously anticipating becoming a big brother. Especially after they had taken care of baby Carole earlier that Spring. "I'm sorry...I think I would have liked a little brother or sister."

Shelagh smiled at him and caught her husband glancing at her from the corner of his eye. With an almost imperceptible nod to him, she smiled as Patrick continued.

"That's why we wanted to talk to you, Tim. You see, Shelagh and I were talking...and we were thinking about adopting a baby."

"Like Colin?"

"Yes, like Colin is adopted. But we wanted to talk to you about it first, this has to be something we all agree with before we start to go forward." Shelagh said tentatively.

Timothy became quiet, almost pensive. Patrick could tell his son was working through things in his mind and didn't need to be put on the spot.

"So, take some time to think about what we've just talked about? I've got to go out on my rounds now, and after tea tonight, we can all sit down and we'll answer any questions you have, okay?"

Tim nodded, the cogs in his brain starting to whirl.

"Timothy? The most important thing is that no matter what, us adopting a baby will have no effect on how much we love you. You're very important to us, and that won't change, understand?" Shelagh waited until he looked her in the eye. "That will _never_ change."

Tim smiled and nodded, knowing that his stepmother meant it. He watched as his dad kissed her on the cheek as he left for his rounds and Shelagh started to clear the table of the dirty dishes. He sat at the table for several minutes before excusing himself to go to his room. He had some thinking to do before dinner.

Grabbing a notebook from his bedside table, he started to make up a list of questions and concerns. He didn't have very many, when he really thought about it, so he crossed out most of them and only focused on what he considered to be important.

"Timothy? Could you please set the table and wash up for tea, dearest?" Shelagh's voice floated down the hallway.

"Coming, Mum!" He took his notebook, placing it on the mantle for their family meeting after they ate.

His father and Shelagh were perched next to each other in their preferred spots in the sitting room. Well, what they wanted Timothy to think were they're preferred spots. Timothy knew that as soon as he went upstairs at night, his father would move to the sofa next to Shelagh and they'd sit very close. They'd been doing that since they had gotten engaged and he wasn't fooled one bit. Both were sat up very straight and had that serious look grown ups always seemed to have.

He wanted to seem like a grownup, too. So he pulled his chair from the table, sitting in front of his parents as though he were conducting a business meeting, looking steadily at his notes.

 _"So, fire away."_

 _"If you did adopt a little sister or brother, would I have to share my bedroom?"_

 _"Do you want to?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Would I still get the same pocket money? I wouldn't get half?"_

 _"No, you wouldn't get half."_

 _"Can they play piano for the choir practice so I could play cricket instead?"_

 _"I think that's a possibility.."_

 _"So, what's the verdict?"_

 _"I think...it would be good."_

Later that night, after Tim had taken his bath and gone to bed and Patrick had been called out to an emergency at a home birth, Shelagh was sitting in bed reading when she heard a knock on the partially open bedroom door.

"Mum?" The door swung open revealing her stepson in his dressing gown, hair askew and face looking pensive again.

"Timothy? What are you doing up, dearest? It's very late. Are you feeling alright?" She put her book down and motioned for him to come closer as she swung her legs from under the duvet and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm fine. I just-I wanted to apologize." He sat down next to her, not making eye contact.

"Whatever for?"

"For being such a beast to you this summer."

Shelagh was surprised at that comment, but tried not to show it, evoking one of her customary responses.

"I don't know what you're talking about Tim."

"Yes you do. You're just being nice." He looked up at her now, keeping eye contact with the woman who had brought his family back together. "I was really mean to you, and you were only trying to help. If I had known why you were so sad, I would have behaved differently. And apologized sooner."

"Oh, Tim." She breathed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into a side hug. "No apology is necessary. I was being a bit of a mother hen, wasn't I?"

He looked down at his lap and smirked. "A little...but you were just doing it because you care. I know that, even if I didn't realize it then."

"Well of course I care...I'm your Mum. My job is to love you and care for you, and make sure you're safe. I didn't want you to get hurt again, by anything."

"I know, Mum. That's just it. You didn't _have_ to love me, you _chose_ to love me. I'm lucky...just like this baby will be. And I promise to remember that better from now on."

Shelagh knew she was on the verge of tears. It was only a matter of time before they would fall, and she hoped she could hold them off until her son went back to his room. He was not a fan of her emotional moments, as he made sure to remind her daily.

She took a deep, steadying breath as she kissed the top of his head. "It wasn't a difficult choice, Timothy. Loving you and your father was the easiest thing I've ever done."


End file.
